


New School

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: MCU Maximoff Oneshots [143]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Codependency, Gen, New School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: Wanda considers, licks her lips. “There is no promise,” she says. “That we will agree to this.”The Professor leans back, nods. “That is true,” he says. “And we would never make you. But we would like you to consider us. Maybe give the school a trial run.” He’s smiling now. “Maybe meet a few people and make some friends. I think you might both rather like Kurt.”





	New School

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [MaximoffFicExchange2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/MaximoffFicExchange2017) collection. 



> > **Prompt:**
>> 
>> After AOU, the avengers decide to bring the twins to the best place for them- the x mansion (xmen original time line preferably)
> 
> I ended up having to make a few... shifts around to the original timeline and a few facts thereof to make this work quite how I wanted it to, but I promise, at least, there's no Days of Future Past or Apocalypse in this.

“We can’t help with your powers,” says Steve, steering the car up the gravel driveway. “We don’t know the first thing about how they work, if they were unlocked or developed, how they interact with your biology-”

“So,” Wanda says, “You are shipping us off to strangers.”

Steve looks sheepish. “Hopefully not,” he says. “Professor Xavier has been around almost as long as I have, and he got to be awake for most of it.”

The twins, in the back of the car, glance to one another. 

“He’s a telepath,” Steve says. “Like you, Wanda, or…” he trails off, parks the car. “It’s kind of hard to explain. But I  _ promise _ you’ll be safe here. And the Professor will be able to help you with your powers and help you adjust far better than we can.” He peers through the windscreen up at the building in front of them. “Besides,” Steve continues. “He’s been taking students from all over the world for decades.”

 

* * *

 

The school is… its quiet at present, “They’re in the sun,” half-growls the rather hairy man, chomping on a cigar, that they meet first. “Rogue said she and Kitty were sorting out some outdoor training exercises. Think Jean’s watching them right now.”

He leads them through the school, through a large wooden foyer, through wood-panelled halls, all of it elegant and old as only a few buildings in Sokovia ever got to be. The warm wood reminds Wanda of  the synagogue, the soft lights make Pietro think of their parents’ tiny flat.

“C’mon,” says the man, half shouldering his way through a door. “Prof’s in here.”

 

* * *

 

The Professor is…

In the eyes of normal sight he is not what Wanda expected. He is small and old and almost frail, leaning back on his wheelchair, one hand on a small toggle that seems to steer it. His eyes are bright, his expression warm and open but he is… just a man, when looked at through the eyes of normal sight.

In the eyes of her scarlet, however, he is- He is vast and encompassing, a mind that nestles in his skull as clear as crystal, as certain as a river, memories filed away like books in a library, but it is so vast a library that clouds have gathered, and birds make their nests there, and his mind stretches up, up, up and so very far away, as though it is spread in an encompassing shield over all the school and grounds.

Wanda gasps and stumbles back against Pietro.

“Wanda?” he is half concerned, half ready, remembers the last time she was shocked so with Ultron, and she can feel the blue leashed to his will and sets a hand on her brother’s arm.

“I think,” she says. “We may be well here.”

 

* * *

 

The Professor sits them down and shakes their hands. The man with a cigar leads Steve away and Wanda can feel his mind at ease in the presence of another old soldier. 

“Now,” he says. “Peace and quiet.”

And there is. The room is soft and quiet but more than that, the  _ minds. _ All the minds Wanda can see at sense have been quietened as though muffled by the vast cloud at the edges of the Professor’s mind. She can still see them, still make them out through the fog, but they are muffled and distanced, softened out and away so the clamour that has been there since she gained her powers is…

Is gone.

“Steve is an old friend, of sorts,” he says, pouring tea for Wanda. He proffers the teapot to Pietro, but pours his own at Pietro’s shaken head. “I encountered him when I was a child, when he was doing shows up and down the country for the war effort. Parents dragged me along, couldn’t get out of it. And then, when they found him in the ice, SHIELD asked me to come in and take a look. Make sure his mind was intact, you understand?”

The twins, slowly, nod. The Professor takes a sip of tea. 

“And after that, once he woke, they asked me to help him adjust. Overlapping time periods, you see? Mutual understanding.” He sets his cup down with a gentle clink. “So when he told me of you two I was quite intrigued. When he asked if I could find some places for you here… well that was not a question at all.”

Wanda’s eyebrow rises. “Intrigued?”

“Most mutants,” the Professor says, stirring his tea, “Gain their powers at a young age, often in response to some kind of trauma. Not always - I have always been able to see minds, my sister Raven has always been able to change her form. But, for example… Rogue, her powers developed out of stress. For one of my dear friends, his powers first came out when his mother was taken from him and appeared again when she was killed before him. You two,” he says, “experienced trauma very young and yet this did not happen.”

Pietro shrugs. “So what? So we are not mutants?”

The Professor smiles gently. “I did not say that.” He picks up his cup in one hand, wheels his chair back with a simple push of the toggle on his chair’s arm. “Come along,” he says. 

 

* * *

 

“The records Steve gave us say your powers - or, precisely, your  _ potential _ was unlocked by way of an artefact. This was not a mutation into powers, or the creation of powers, this was the activation of something pre-existing.”

“The others,” Wanda says softly, her cup in her hand. “They all died. So they… they did not have this pre-existing thing.”

The Professor turned his chair, set his empty cup down on a sideboard, and pushed a button hidden in the wall. “Exactly,” he says. “But of course, I could not be sure. There are other things it can be - Inhumans, for example, have recently become known to us all. So I made use of a very old and very useful thing a dear friend and I worked on many years ago.”

 

* * *

 

The door leads to a lift, the lift leads to a corridor and at the end of the corridor-

“This,” the Professor says, “Is Cerebro. It’s only usable by telepaths, really, but even then you must be  _ very _ careful. Jean can only handle it for a few seconds unless she taps into her more dangerous abilities. Emma can handle it for slightly longer but then she can have trouble using some of her other abilities for a while after. It takes training and practice but-”

Wanda can already see the shape of the revelation in his mind.

“It can allow you to see people far away. But with the mind.”

He smiles. “Yes,” he says. “And more than that. With it, I can find mutants - your minds are… very slightly more distinct, to Cerebro.”

Pietro looks to Wanda, looks to the Professor, looks at the vast round room around them.

“So we are mutants,” he says. “Did you have to take so long to say it?”

Wanda lays a hand on her brother’s arm, soothing and gentle. “I think,” she says. “He did. Would you trust him if he just said so?”

“Exactly,” says the Professor. “And it is something I would like you both to know.” He leans forwards in his chair, half propped on its arms as he looks them both in the eye. “I will never lie to you, either of you. I may not explain immediately, but I will not ever lie to you.”

Wanda considers, licks her lips. “There is no promise,” she says. “That we will agree to this.”

The Professor leans back, nods. “That is true,” he says. “And we would never make you. But we would like you to consider us. Maybe give the school a trial run.” He’s smiling now. “Maybe meet a few people and make some friends. I think you might both rather like Kurt.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!


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